


Contrary

by misledmisneach



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen is a poor addicted bb, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Non-specific Female Inquisitor, a lot of ellipses i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misledmisneach/pseuds/misledmisneach
Summary: Cullen realizes that the Inquisitor is pleasant company. He knows that they can never become involved, though. They are at war, and she is leading the most powerful group in Thedas.His addiction, on top of that, seems to be all he can think of when she's not around. One day, the Inquisitor asks to speak to him alone. Did she finally find him a replacement? Oh Maker, how does she looks so calm? Does she feel nothing for him?(I'm sure you already know the answers to those)I tried to keep all details about the Inquisitor pretty neutral so that you can stick your own Quizzy in there (or you, idk, I don't judge). Can be any race, class, or appearance, but I kept the Inquisitor a female because Cullen is canonically straight.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I took some liberties with the first kiss scene because I've played it so many times. I wanted something a little different than what the game already gives us. I did try to keep the dialogue the same, but that was very difficult because my internet decided it was time for a prolonged vacation, so I couldn't look up any of the play-through scenes. Also, everyone seems to make a mage character and that was making my whole "Neutral Inquisitor" thing a problem.  
> Let me know if you have any ideas for another fic. I get bored sometimes.  
> It's pretty short, but yeah, enjoy.

      It haunted him in his waking and sleeping hours. Try as he might to distract himself, Cullen could not shake his need for lyrium. His body and mind craved it, and his soul suffered. Despite this, though, he found strength in the certainty that he could not fail, and so he endured.  
He did find that there were small things that helped him to withstand the pain and hunger for lyrium. Cassandra often brought him books that he read on the long nights when sleep would not find him. Josephine and Leliana would give him a warm smile whenever they came to his office or passed him on their way to carry out their work in the Inquisition.  
And the Inquisitor, she seemed set on personally healing Cullen’s addiction. She came to see him whenever she had a free moment. Usually she came to ask how he was, and what he thought of their progress. Sometimes she would bring apples or a loaf of bread with her, and they would sit on his desk, eating her (probably stolen) food.

      Initially, Cullen was a bit bothered by the fact that she seemed to be paying him special attention. He had confessed his addiction, and that he was no longer taking lyrium in order to brief her on his situation. He hoped that she would continue to treat him the same way; not seeing him as an invalid who should be handled with caution.  
Now, though, he had begun to enjoy the time he spent with her. He liked the way she thought and laughed. She seemed to know when his pain was at its worst, and would lower her voice when she spoke.  
If she could, sometimes she would even do his work for him. More than once, the Inquisitor had gone to the training yard in his stead to oversee the drills run by the men, and left Cullen with orders to sleep.  
What she didn’t know was that he rarely found sleep. The pain seemed worse when he had nothing to do, and lying still, waiting for sleep was infuriating. He worked himself to the point of exhaustion, and often woke up at his desk, neck stiff and head throbbing. This, of course, did nothing to help his situation, but he saw no way out of it, and so he endured: for her sake, for his sake, and for the world’s sake.

      It didn’t take long for the Commander to begin to break, though, and try as he might to hide it, the Inquisitor knew. She could see through his cracks, and find his pain, and so he confided in her. He asked her to watch him, along with Cassandra, though he hated to place his own burden on her. Especially given everything she was already doing, and had done. He saw no alternative though, and she happily agreed. He marveled at how selfless she could be, even in the midst of everything that weighed on her.  
      “Cullen, can I talk to you?” She asked one day, placing a hand on his shoulder. She pushed him gently towards the door of his office, not giving him a chance to argue. They walked along the ramparts in silence, and it was killing the Commander. It was a remarkably pleasant day, with birds flitting into the trees speckled here and there throughout the hold. The sun was warm on his face, and it gleamed off of the swords and armor of the men in the training yard. Despite being seated in the heights of the Frostbacks, it seemed to remain temperate within Skyhold.  
He found it difficult to enjoy the good weather though, as questions milled around in his head. Had she finally found him a replacement? Had he done something wrong? _Maker,_ he prayed, _don’t let her be upset with me._ He had finally found something - or rather, someone- that made him happy, and now he had muddled it. And why was she taking him so far from the soldiers that congregated outside of his office? What did she have to say that she felt it should be done in private? He supposed that he should be grateful that she was gracious enough to spare his dignity, but the longer they walked, the more anxious he became. How did she look so calm? Did she really think so lowly of him that this was menial to her?

      After what seemed like an eternity, the Inquisitor stopped walking, apparently satisfied with how far they had separated themselves from the others. She moved away from him and gripped the stone wall. Her knuckles turned white with the pressure she placed on her hands, and her hair blew away from her face, revealing a hard expression as she prepared herself for what she had to say. This _was_ tearing her apart, whatever it was, and Cullen knew he was the cause. It broke his heart. Already he had caused her pain, and yet again he knew that the brief light in his light was about to be extinguished.

      The Commander looked down at the stones of the wall beneath him. The grooves in the rock gave him something to focus on, lest he start screaming.  
      “This is a lot harder than it looks,” the Inquisitor finally muttered. Cullen didn’t look up. He didn’t want to. Didn’t want to meet her eyes, didn’t want anything to change, but he knew it would. He heard her turn around, but she didn’t move any closer. He knew she was leaning back on the stone behind her. Her arms were probably crossed, making herself small, and trying to protect herself: defensive.  
      “I’ve . . . found myself thinking about you . . . a lot,” she said. Cullen didn’t understand at first. Her words seemed foreign; very different than what he was expecting. He finally lifted his head to meet her gaze. Her cheeks were pink, and she was tapping her foot nervously. Could she be . . .  
No, that didn’t make any sense. Why would she be interested in him?  
       “I’ve come to care a lot for you - or, about you, and I- I really enjoy the time I’ve spent with you . . ..” Now it was she who wouldn’t meet his gaze. Could she truly have said that? It was so far from what he thought she would say.  
Of course, he had wondered to himself what he would do in this situation. It was nothing more than an idle fantasy, as he felt this moment was impossible. He was at a loss for what to say or do. This was nothing like the scenarios he had rehearsed in his mind.  
       “What do you mean?” he finally asked. He knew what she meant, at least, he thought he did, but he didn’t feel quite ready to respond.  
       “Just . . . do you think you could come to care for me, too?” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and shifted her weight to her other foot, still avoiding his eyes.  
       “I could, I mean, I do . . . care about you, and . . .” his voice trailed off, and he ran a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. The words had come on their own, and he scarcely knew he was talking before he stopped himself.  
       “And . . .?” She asked. Her voice trembled, which surprised him. She was a strong and confident woman. It was strange to see her so shaken.  
       “...and you’re the Inquisitor. We’re at war. And you . . . I didn’t think it was possible.”  
       “But it’s true, nonetheless,” she said, and pushed away from the wall. She stepped closer to him, only glancing at his face briefly.  
       “I - I . . .” she began to stutter, face turned downwards. The intense light of the setting sun caught in her hair, and danced across her head. The warm glow made her face look impossibly soft; too perfect for a flesh and blood woman.  
Before he could stop himself, his mouth was on hers. It was an impulse, one that he never thought himself capable of, and yet here he was.

       It took the Inquisitor a moment to return the kiss, but when she did, Cullen couldn’t help but smile. He felt her lips curve into a grin as well. She was happy too, thank the Maker, and that was all he needed. They broke off, out of breath, and pressed their foreheads together.  
       “I’m sorry, that was, uh . . . really nice,” Cullen muttered softly. He ran his fingers slowly over the material of her coat, listening to her breathing slow again.  
       “You don’t regret it, do you?” She asked, moving her head to look into his eyes at last.  
       “No, I- I don’t. Do you?” He asked, suddenly worried that he may have misread her response. He stiffened, not daring to move, lest she back away, or disappear entirely.  
       “No, Cullen,” she replied. She smiled, and it was a broad and warm smile, unlike any he had received before.


End file.
